Applying Pressure
by Arpad Hrunta
Summary: Donna sets a deadline for Josh to figure out what he wants, after Sam turns down Deputy Chief of Staff. An alternate take/companion piece on the events of my previous story Pressure, with a different ending. Reading that one is not required for this one, but it adds a dimension. Not bleak, unlike the other one. Completed.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I own neither the characters nor the universe of _The West Wing_, and make no such claim upon them. I'm simply having some fun here.

_[Author's Note: This is a sort-of companion piece to __Pressure__. It had its origin in a request chai4anne (whose stories you should read, if you haven't already) had to see a similar piece from Donna's point of view, following largely the same plot, but having Donna confront the way she's been dealing with Josh, and hopefully come to a happier conclusion than that bleak, bleak story did. I thought that was a great idea. So here it is.]_

Applying Pressure

When she goes to his apartment the night he returns from California, she takes a good look at him before she goes over to kiss him. He looks defeated, and it's not just because Sam rejected his plea to return to Washington. He's been looking defeated so much lately, you wouldn't think he just single-handedly masterminded the most incredible dark horse victory since James Polk.

Donna can tell the moment Josh realizes she's in the room, because his face completely transforms, and suddenly he's not the harried man who was nearly fired weeks before the election, but the brash, confident man she fell in love with all those years ago. It occurs to her that other than when they were alone together, she hasn't really seen him smile in almost a year.

Since she quit her job as his assistant.

They've never really talked about that. They don't talk much, really – they haven't in those eleven months, other than short conversations, or plans to get together. When they are together, their mouths are too busy for words.

Donna misses the bantering, the flirtation, the verbal play that formed the core of their relationship for so many years, but this is better. Largely.

They drag each other into the bedroom, and it's passionate and fun and wonderful, and their together. Together at last. For eight years she dreamed of this, of being with him, and trust overachieving, competitive Josh Lyman to exceed her fantasies in bed. He's amazing, attentive, and insistent on her pleasure. She cherishes the times they make love.

Well, she considers it making love. She doesn't know what he thinks it is.

And this grates upon her. What is this? What does she mean to him? What, frankly, does he mean to her? She hopes it's the start of the relationship she has been dreaming of with him, sometimes almost unwillingly, for nearly nine years. She's older, more of a realist, more jaded, but a part of her still dreams of the perfect married life with Josh as the perfect husband, the both of them taking D.C. by storm, living in the perfect house, having the perfect children, their lives filled with tender caresses and verbal foreplay and wild passionate nights. And it would be so easy to just be in the moment with Josh, and trust that this was where they were heading, that they had the same endgame in mind.

But she doesn't know. She's not willing to sacrifice a year of progress, a year of her becoming her own woman, and not just Josh's Assistant Donna, for something that may be happening. She needs to know.

She also needs him to tell her what she's thinking. So far, she's made all the first moves – trying to give him her key that one night, basically propositioning him twice on election day. She needs to know he will do something. That he's not going to be completely passive in this, because she's know he very well might if she just keeps offering him sex. She needs him to act.

Even after their estrangement, she trusts she knows Josh Lyman. Knows how he thinks. Knows how he reacts. Knows what carrots to use, what sticks to use. Josh responds to pressure. He doesn't like it, but he responds to it.

When she wakes up alone in bed the next morning (they never wake up together, one always leaves first), she presents him with her plan: they need to decide what they are together within four weeks, or it's not worth the trouble. She knows this is another deadline for him, and he has a lot on his plate these days, but it's the best way she knows to get him to make a decision about what this is.

She kisses him and leaves.

* * *

The next day is a wonderful one for her professional development. Mrs. Santos asks her to be her Chief of Staff. Her, Donna Moss, who twelve months previous was picking up Josh Lyman's dry cleaning and making appointments for him! Mrs. Santos asks her to take a few days to think about it, but there's really nothing that could make her not take it. It's a tremendous opportunity, and it solves the problem of having to work under Josh, which would be bad whichever way this ends up going.

She sees Josh later and is so full of pride when she tells him of Mrs. Santos' offer. Josh is genuinely impressed, and for a moment the weight and worry she sees him carrying disappears in honest happiness for her.

She knows, of course, how much pressure he's under. He's got a President-Elect who really is a neophyte at executive office, notwithstanding his service as Mayor of Houston. Her crack during the primaries about being a three-term congressman not qualifying him to be President didn't come out of nowhere, after all. Josh also has to deal with Matt Santos appointing Barry Goodwin, who tried to get him fired from the campaign, to run the transition team. Josh had hoped he'd have Sam in his corner, but he's doing this all on his own, and not holding it together very well. She wonders if putting him on a deadline to figure _them_ out is too much for him.

Josh then proposes her as his Deputy, saying she knows the job better than almost anyone else from working with him all those years. She'd prefer to work with Mrs. Santos, but it's a wonderful acknowledgment from him of all the hard work she's done and how much she's grown over the years. Josh does his best to sway her, and she's almost tempted, until he makes a comment about it her not having to bring him coffee. She knows it's his attempt at a joke, but it just brings back all her anger about how he kept her down and didn't want her to grow in her job all those years.

They really should talk about all this, but a hallway in the transition offices is not the place to do it. She coldly informs him that the offer is flattering, but she will be taking the Chief of Staff position to the First Lady.

He then tells her there's no way he's going to figure this thing between them out in four weeks, and that after the coffee comment just removes any regret she had for putting him on the deadline. Four weeks! He can't figure it out in four weeks? He can't decide whether there's a future for them, or whether he thinks this is just casual sex, or whether he doesn't even want that? How hard is that? She's so frustrated – she's waited nearly a decade for this, or something like it, and he can't even put the effort into figuring out what he wants?

But she keeps calm, and informs him he has three weeks and six days left.

* * *

CJ has figured out by now that Donna and Josh are sleeping together. Not that they're really hiding it, or even could, after Ronna and Edie telling everyone about their tryst on Election Day afternoon. CJ asks Donna what this is with Josh, and she tells her that they don't know themselves yet, and are still figuring it out. CJ hesitates, then tells her to be careful.

Donna doesn't know whether to be pissed with CJ or not. That conversation during the lockdown a year and a half ago was about the most humiliating thing Donna had ever experienced, and she's accidentally dropped her underwear in front of Karen Cahill, so she knows about humiliation. But Donna thinks CJ was essentially right in her analysis of her career, if not the personal aspects. She did the one-night stand thing with Colin, and when she remembers how warm and loving Josh looked when she first woke up in Germany, and how distant he got when after Colin showed up, she still wonders whether Josh was about to proclaim his love for her, and how much having fucked Colin because she wanted to get out from under Josh's thumb really cost her.

Of course, it's just as likely that they just would have ended up in this weird sexual limbo eighteen months early.

But sexual limbo or not, it's a deeply satisfying limbo, so despite her still being pissed at him, she goes over to his apartment, and they have passionate and rigorous sex, albeit not particular tender or sweet sex. Exhausted and satiated, she fall into a blissful sleep, but when she wakes up at four, he's awake too. Still annoyed with him, she reminds him of the time left on his deadline, and leaves. She doesn't kiss him goodbye, but he makes no move to do so either.

* * *

She sees Josh is cracking up. The President-Elect commented to her, as he asked to her mortification if Josh was "having fun" with anyone that he looked like a zombie. She hears through the grapevine that he keeps yelling at Otto, and when she passes the other staffers, she sees they're doing their best to avoid him, all except for Ronna, who he's been working with for longer than anyone. Well, except for her, of course, but that was a long time ago in a different setting. Ronna seems almost protective of Josh, and a part of her thinks its a shame she's been tapped by the President-elect to be the new Debbie Fidderer (_not_ the new Mrs. Landingham, she thinks. There can be no new Mrs. Landingham – the shoes are too big to fill), because she'd be a wonderful assistant for Josh. Then she reminds herself that it's not her job to worry about these things. Certainly not until Josh tells her what he wants from this thing of theirs.

So she goes back and forth with herself on the wisdom of the deadline. She knows he's under tremendous pressure, and she probably isn't helping, but she's afraid if she eases up he won't take her seriously, and will just ride roughshod over her concerns no matter what they end up as, whether as the lovers and partners she hopes or the casual sex partners she fears he wants. She needs him to take her seriously, and she needs to know what he wants. She's not going to make assumptions and be humiliated by him.

Besides, if he would just decide what he wanted, the pressure from her would just disappear, and if he wanted to, she could help him and ease his burdens and be the partner and help-mate she still wants to be to him. But they don't talk, and when she's honest with herself, she realize she's been avoiding talking to him until he givers her an answer.

She pops her head into his office and reminds him there's three weeks, three days left.

* * *

She can't believe he's going to be working with Amy Gardner again. Can't believe he would approve her hiring. And she doesn't buy his claim that he couldn't talk the President-Elect out of hiring her. She's never told him how more than anyone else she's ever met, Amy makes her feel like a meek, pathetic, uneducated low-class fraud who should be making coffee in some industrial park on the outskirts of Madison, although Josh really should know that. She's never told him about their conversation the night Zoey Bartlet was kidnapped, and how Amy drunkenly asked her if she was in love with Josh. She didn't answer Amy, but she wouldn't put it past her and him having a good chuckle over it between bouts of lovemaking during his second go with her.

And wouldn't you know it, she runs into Amy that same day. Amy's all smiles and friendliness and congratulates her on snagging Josh, and says with a smirk, "I guess I know the answer to that question I asked three years ago." She then congratulates Donna on Chief of Staff to the First Lady, and says Donna will probably last far longer than she did for Abbey Bartlet because Donna's a team player. And her smiles are sincere enough that Donna can't figure out whether Amy's being snide or genuinely friendly, and that just pisses her off more.

She lets Josh know she's upset at this, and doesn't go over that night. She doesn't let Josh know she fears being thrown over in favor of Amy, but he can probably figure that out, which makes her feel even smaller.

She keeps up the countdown, though. By voice mail.

* * *

It's only the one night she doesn't go over, though. She needs him, and that upsets her, because while it's one thing to just have fun sleeping together, and she's done enough of that that it doesn't bother her in itself, it's entirely another with _him_, who held her heart in his hands, knowingly or not, for all those years.

She _needs_ him to tell he what she wants from this, and as the days pass by, doesn't want to contemplate what she'll do if it expires. It was supposed to just light a fire under his ass and get her an answer in a day or two. It wasn't supposed to become this burden on his shoulders, but she feels she can't lift it without saying he's completely in charge and she'll do whatever he says.

But what if he doesn't say it? Can she just say _this _is actually not worth the trouble?

She desperately hopes she doesn't have to make that decision.

Josh is in talks with the West Wing. She knows this through the grapevine. She mentions it to CJ, who comments that Santos is buggering things up, but won't elaborate. She also calls Josh an ass, which is par for the course for her these days. They used to be friends. They all used to be friends. Donna misses that, even if she doesn't miss the indentured servitude to Josh.

CJ then pays Josh an unexpected compliment by saying he's more open-minded than she ever thought he'd be towards old adversaries. She won't elaborate on that either, but a few days later Will Bailey shows up as Josh's new Deputy. She goes and congratulates Will, who congratulates her on her new job. Will's a good guy. He was a good boss, and he treated her like a collaborator, far more than anyone else ever has, even if he was never the teacher Josh was.

A part of her still feels guilty for that crack, as it killed a nice moment between her and Josh, but she was still pissed at him then, and it felt nice to be the one doing the wounding for once. Well, not for once – she'd been doing that a lot, ever since Germany when Josh just went back to normal after getting her hopes up with his transoceanic dash to her bedside.

She tells herself she'll apologize to him after he tells her where he sees them going.

Their lovemaking, if that's what it is, is fabulous that night, but she leaves before he wakes, as it's so awkward not knowing what he wants. She leaves her deadline (two weeks, five days – he's already wasted nine days) on a post-it.

* * *

She is so pissed at him. It's Thanksgiving, and they were going to spend the evening together. He was going to be done at four. They were going to cook together, and talk, and watch a movie, and spend wonderful hours in bed exalting each others' bodies.

But it's five minutes to six when she pulls the chicken out of the oven he never uses, and he's still at work.

There was no need for him to be there at all today. No one else at the transition was working. Damn near no one in America was working, but Josh Lyman, Workaholic Extraordinaire had to be in.

Damn him.

She pounces on him as soon as he finally enters the door at six thirty. He said four. Why the hell did he have to go in? What happened to their special day? She doesn't let him get a word in edgewise, and just keeps going. Is this how it's going to be, this lack of consideration? This lack of time for her? Does he even want this? There's two weeks, four days to go. Does he even need that? Is there any point?

His face turns angry as he goes on and on about the pressures he's under, and how no one supports him and no one listens, and he's now stuck with Goodwin riding his ass and hoping he fails, and how CJ just keeps yelling at him and telling him how useless he and the President-Elect are.

His face is getting redder and redder, and his breaths are getting shorter and shorter. She's about to say something...

And then he starts complaining about the deadline. Calling it stupid. Saying how it's making everything worse, and she's certain he means that _she_ is making things worse. He yells that he loves her. He's loved her for years, he yells, but the volume and tone are anything but loving as he says how her God-damned deadline is too much, and he doesn't have time to deal with this with Kazakhstan and the transition and Goodwin breathing down his neck and all these God-damned _kids_ who will be running the White House. He yells at her to lay off with the deadline and give him some God-damned space.

And that's it for Donna, as she yells right back that it so damned clear to her now that he doesn't respect her at all if he's treating her this way and belittling her and making light of her needs and her deadline, and how the real issue is how he can't handle her standing up for herself. Well, she's not going to be his doormat anymore, and he can have space, all the space in the world, and she takes her stuff and leaves as the tears of anger and anguish begin to flow.

It's hard to drive back to CJ's like this, and it's harder still to pass through her apartment to the spare room she's staying in, past Danny and CJ who are obviously having a romantic dinner, just like the romantic dinner she was supposed to have with Josh, and that just makes it worse, as she collapses on the bed, wracked with sobs worse than when that bastard refused to hire her after the convention and threw her words back at her and made her feel like an amateur and a loser. And just like then, he throws in something that would light up her whole existence if it wasn't surrounded by such hurtful, hurtful crap. He claimed he missed her every day then. He claimed to love her now. But he was yelling so much, she thinks if that's what he thinks love is, then it's better off that they're over.

And she sobs some more as CJ knocks on the door, and Donna begs her to go back to Danny, she's all right, and it's nothing. And she does, because Donna knows CJ often doesn't know what to say to her, and hasn't since the lockdown.

They're over. Nine years wasted. Nine years of pining. Nine years of laughter and fun and banter and moments and arguments and hurt and silence and anger and reconciliation and smiles and tears, and this is what it comes down to. Two kisses and seventeen days of sex. What a letdown.

She cries all night long.


	2. Chapter 2

She calls Mrs. Santos the next morning and says she'll be late. CJ does the same thing at the White House, because other than Kazakhstan there's not much to do. Donna tells her what happened, and CJ comforts her, and Donna says CJ was right, she was right all along and she should have had nothing to do with him, and he's a heartless bastard and she's wasted nine years of her life and she knows it now. And CJ holds her, and tells her the pain will go away, and maybe this is just a bump in the road for them, like when she left, and he'll get over it and they'll be in a better place in a bit, although Donna doesn't think CJ believes it.

And Donna doesn't believe it either, and says no, she's done with him, although a small part of her thinks she isn't quite done yet, that there's more to the story of Josh and Donna. But the rest of her doesn't think that at all, and knows you only get so many chances, and they've blown them all.

Nine years gone.

She laughs bitterly, and says at least she's got him out of her system, and being with him was like having the mumps and she's inoculated now. CJ doesn't laugh, just holds her, but she doesn't say anything else, and doesn't take the opportunity to badmouth Josh like she so often does these days.

And Donna puts herself together and goes into work.

Mrs. Santos asks how Thanksgiving with Josh went, and she tells her they've broken up. Mrs. Santos is sympathetic, and says she never liked Josh Lyman anyway, and that Donna's too good for him. And Bram, who's of course delivering something at right that moment, mumbles that he's sorry to hear that, and two hours later everyone in the building knows.

Josh calls a couple of times, but she's not taking his calls. She thinks that maybe she'd answer one on Monday or Tuesday, but he's stopped calling by then, and he doesn't come to find her in Mrs. Santos' office.

Most people offer their sympathies and say she didn't deserve an ogre like Lyman anyway. Will's sympathies mean the most, after the First Lady's, as he always was a good boss, but she notes he's careful not to say anything about Josh, which Donna recognizes is a smart move if he's going to be Josh's Deputy.

Three reactions are different from the others, though.

Amy pops by after a few days, and is surprisingly sympathetic. She says she and Donna are members of the "I dumped 'J' Club", and that hopefully no one else will be dumb enough to date him around here, or they'll have to print up memberships and have a secret handshake. And Donna laughs, and Amy gives her the most awkward hug she's ever had, but smiles before she leaves and says that at least she got some orgasms out of it, as he's very good in bed, whatever his other shortcomings. And Donna just feels weird about the whole thing.

It's true, though. He was easily the best and most enthusiastic lover she's ever had. She's glad she can at least say they've slept together (she's reclassified it in her mind from making love), so the mystery and wonder won't plague her for the rest of her life. She can't help but think if they hadn't gotten together at Election Day, but back when things were sweet and fun with them, like just before the MS, or just after the second Inauguration, that they wouldn't have ended up here. Even if there was a little less pressure on Josh, they wouldn't.

A part of her thinks she killed it off with her deadline. That's what they fought about, wasn't it? But no, she needed it – to get him to respect her, to get him to step up. She's certain of it, and the pain of ending nine years of dreams now is worth saving herself from more ongoing years of humiliation if she were to just meekly submit to being his sex toy, which is what she is even more convinced would have happened, angry shouts of "I love you" aside. If he really loved her, or even if he wanted to put on a good show, he would have told her at any point, ever, rather than shout it during an argument.

Ronna's reaction is different as well. Her eyes shoot daggers at Donna, and when she sees Donna coming she's on the phone immediately, and Josh's door shuts. Most people are on Donna's side, but one moment at the water cooler, Ronna says Donna may have everyone else fooled, thinking she's so sweet, but _she_ knows Josh and _she_ knows what Donna does to Josh, and watched all through the primaries how Josh would tense up every time he saw her or heard her voice, and Ronna knew she was just going to crush him again. And yes, he's intense and yells, but he's a good man, a decent man under so much pressure, who's worked so hard and gotten no sleep in a year, and if Donna can't see that after so many years with him, then she's just a heartless bitch and should stay away from him.

It takes Donna a moment, but she recognizes that look. It's the same look she used to give Mandy Hampton on the first campaign when she was being especially cruel to Josh. It's disquieting to say the least, and Donna idly wonders whether Ronna will end up as Donna 2.0, his unwavering supporter against the whole world. She finds herself idly thankful Ronna is a lesbian.

The most disturbing is Annabeth's reaction, who says she's not surprised at all, and was more surprised Donna slept with him in the first place, as she didn't think she liked him that much. Donna is shocked by this. Annabeth goes on about how when she first came to the White House everyone talked about how they thought Donna and Josh were either in love with one another or secret lovers, but she just didn't see it at all. She knew Josh had dropped everything to go to Germany, and it was obvious he had a crush on Donna, but figured that's all it was – a boss liking a pretty young subordinate, but having the grace, manners and class not to thrust it upon her, and well as caring too much about her to burden her with unwanted affection. She thought it was clearly one way, though, as in all the time she's known Donna, even before she left the White House, she got the impression that Donna found Josh irritating and unlikeable, and her opinion didn't change at all until Leo made an offhand remark to her a few weeks before the election.

He had said it was great seeing them working together again, and maybe they could get it together and finally be a couple after all these years. Annabeth had no idea who Leo was talking about, and it took some convincing for her to believe he was serious, as until a few weeks before the election, Donna was so cold and dismissive to him, even just after Gaza. Leo told her some stories, especially of the months after Rosslyn, and all Annabeth could say is how she found it unbelievable Donna would ever take care of _Josh_ like that. When she asked Leo what happened, he just said "Oh, who the hell knows?" Annabeth was surprised when she heard they got together after the election, and had just chalked it up to grief sex over Leo's death.

Donna is shocked by this, that someone didn't know she loved Josh, couldn't see she loved Josh, and thought she _hated_ him. And that made Donna think, and wonder if Josh thought that. Maybe she didn't want them to be done. She might have to talk to Josh, but told herself she'd do it after she came back from Wisconsin after Christmas. She needs time.

She thinks Josh needs time, too. He's yelling all the time, and people are rolling their eyes and taking bets on when the nervous breakdown will be. Donna doesn't think it's a nervous breakdown at all, but he might have a PTSD episode like in the Oval Office that terrible Christmas, and although that's not her problem at all any more, she'll keep an eye out. She tries to tell Ronna that, but she just glares at Donna.

* * *

On the first Monday in December, Donna and Mrs. Santos are in Richmond, Virginia. The governor's wife invited the First Lady to tea, and Donna leaped at the invitation, to get out of the office, so they had left very early. She was glad she would be separated from Josh in the East Wing – it would make things so much easier. She was still going back and forth on the idea of giving Josh another chance – she'd definitely have to think about it over Christmas.

They drive away from the Virginia Executive Mansion when Mrs. Santos gets a phone call. "What? Oh my God. Four hours ago? How long have you known? Well, why didn't you tell me? Of course Donna doesn't know. Because they broke up! Well, obviously someone didn't tell her. We'll go straight away. GW, got it."

Donna gets more frantic as Mrs. Santos' call goes on, and then the soon-to-be First Lady tells her. "Honey, it's Josh. He's had a heart attack."

And Donna is crying. No, not Josh... not his heart, it's weak to begin with. Why didn't they tell me? Who found him? She calls Josh's number, but there's no answer. Mrs. Santos is calling the office, and finally gets Will, who confirms what's going on, that as far as he knows Josh is in surgery. Ronna found him in his office at 7, and called 911. She's called his mother, and she's on her way. She may have even landed by now. She's the emergency contact.

Mrs. Santos has her driver do 80 miles per hour the rest of the way, but it's still far too long. She checks her messages – there is one from Ronna at around 8:30 telling her about Josh. Ronna sounds frantic.

And Donna is trapped in her own thoughts. Not again, not again. It's worse for her this time, worse than Rosslyn, because she at least was there during his surgery. Last time at least she didn't have to worry that if the unthinkable happened, her last words to him were bitter and angry. Last time she had nothing but fond memories to tide her through the surgery.

Not this time, though. And she thinks about how it's come to this, and prays to the God she only sometimes believes in to give them another chance, a... damn it, a sixth chance, after her leaving twice and Rosslyn and Gaza... another chance to make things right with the only man she's ever really loved. She loved him for so long, and they'll look back on the last eleven days as just a fight, a terrible, terrible fight, but they'll look back and shake their heads at how foolish they were, how foolish they always were, when they're on the porch watching the grandchildren play as the sun gets lower in the sky.

He loves her. Sure, he said it in an angry tirade, but he loves her. She doesn't know why she let that get drowned out, not when it was all she was hoping for for nine years. He loves her. She feels so stupid about not taking his calls, and setting that deadline and letting it all get in the way. It's nothing. Nothing at all compared to him loving her. He'll get through this, and she'll get another chance, and they'll make it work this time. This time it will work. Nothing will stop her. Nothing.

Donna gets dropped off around noon, and rushes into the hospital. She's frantic, and tries to get to Josh, but when they ask if she's family, she stops short, because they're not. They're not even together anymore. So she says he's her boyfriend, and they're on a bit a break, but they're together, really they are. But it doesn't matter, they don't let her through.

Ronna sees her, and even through the tears she's still shooting daggers at Donna, but she gets her and brings her back. It was horrible, she says, so horrible, but he's been through surgery and they think he'll get better, but it's a hard road. He's been under so much pressure, she says, and looks darkly at Donna when she says it. They don't know how long it will take.

Donna's heartbroken at this, that he went through it, and asks Ronna if she stayed. And Ronna says she did, but she has to get back to the office now. Josh's mother is here, though, she came up from Florida as quick as she could, and she's in his room as he sleeps. Donna begs her to take her back, and though Ronna looks like she doesn't think it's a good idea, she relents, and she stands outside his door and looks in through the window.

Josh is sleeping, but he looks worse than she's ever seen him. Rachel Lyman is sitting over him, crying, and she looks worse than Donna has ever seen her, worse than after Rosslyn. After a while she turns her head and sees Donna, and her expression is unreadable for a moment, until she nods her head at Donna. Donna moves toward the door, but Rachel shakes her head. Donna stops, taken aback. Her tears haven't stopped.

After a few minutes more, Rachel quietly comes out of Josh's room. Donna throws her arms around Josh's mother, and she hugs back, but it's devoid of the warmth of the past. Donna chalks that up to Rachel being exhausted from the morning. She asks how he is, and Rachel says its bad, but he should get better, eventually. She says he should have left Washington years ago, and she kept asking him to, but he didn't listen, and now look where he is. She says he can't go on, can't go on like this anymore, and she's not going to bury another child. And she cries and Donna cries.

It's good to hear her voice again, Donna thinks, even under these terrible circumstances. They haven't spoken in months. Donna misses her.

Donna tells Rachel they'll work out a schedule to keep him company, just like they did before, and they'll help Josh get better no matter how much he fights them. And she tries to smile as she says this, but something about Rachel's expression gives her pause. Donna says she's going in to see him, but Rachel grabs her arm, quicker and stronger than a woman in her late seventies should be able to, and tells Donna that maybe that's not such a good idea.

Donna is shocked, as Rachel says that his heart is very week, and Josh can't handle any stress, so she's taking charge. There will be one visitor at a time, for no more than ten minutes. Rachel will be in with him, making sure no one says anything stressful. And she's not going to let any stressful people in with him, not until he's a little better. And Donna knows Rachel means her.

Donna is hurt, so hurt by this. She thought Rachel loved her. They'd spoken at least once a month, right from the beginning, at first just to keep Rachel updated on Josh's busy life, and later just to chat. Rachel always felt like a mother-in-law to Donna, even outside of Donna's fantasy, and like the kind of mother-in-law you love, who treats you like a daughter and tells you her son is the lucky one. Rachel told her many times over the years that she wishes Josh would just marry and give her grandchildren, and wouldn't it be nice if he met someone who had so many wonderful qualities like you, Donna dear, and maybe Josh will one day wake up and see the possibilities. And Donna knows she wouldn't have been able to hold on to her dream for so many years, through Amy and all the times she thought Josh could never care for her, if it weren't for Rachel's support and friendship.

But she hasn't spoken to Rachel in months. After Donna left the White House, they talked like they always did, which was a little awkward, but Rachel asked Donna to keep in mind Josh is a proud man, but he's a good man, and they both needed to talk. Donna would deflect, and the calls became less frequent, and Donna stopped calling after Iowa because it was so painful to keep this connection, and to talk to his mother when she was trying to get over him. Their last talk was two weeks before the convention, and they haven't spoken since, but Donna thought it wouldn't matter, that she understood how hectic things were and that she sometimes couldn't make the time, but whatever was happening with her and Josh shouldn't change that Donna and Rachel were still so close. But she never said it to her.

But Josh needs me, Donna says more forcefully than she would normally in a hospital. He needs me. He loves me. And I love him.

And Rachel shakes her head, not unkindly, and says Josh never mentioned she said that to him. And Donna realizes, she never did. Josh didn't know. And she cries some more, and sits down. I'll wait for him to wake up, she says.

Rachel says that wouldn't be for the best. Josh needs to rest. He needs to avoid stress. And that's going to be hard, at least for the moment, if Donna's just outside the door. It can't be like before, his heart is too weak, and he can't handle it at the moment. He can't handle her.

But he needs me, Donna repeats.

Not at the moment. Maybe you should go, she says, and tries to sound sympathetic. No one else will be seeing him today, and she'll call Donna when he's up do it, but now it's time for her to go. She'll tell him she came by, she promises. And Donna breaks down even more, sobbing and wailing, until an orderly comes by and asks her to be quiet, so she stops wailing and just sobs, wracked with sorrow and tears. But he needs me, she says. He needs me. He always needs me.

And Rachel says that she can take care of him, and if he needs her, where was she for the last two weeks? The last year? And Donna cries more and more, and Rachel takes her into a hug, and says she's sorry, she shouldn't have said that now, it's not the right time, but she has to check on Josh. Call tomorrow, and maybe he'll be up to it.

Donna hails a cab, calls in sick for the rest of the day, and goes back to CJ's and collapses on the bed, dehydrated from the tears, and having all of her dreams of reconciliation put off. Hopefully for just a few days.

She gets a call from Sam, saying Ronna called him, and asking how he is. And she says he's recovering, and Sam asks her to give the phone to Josh so he can say 'hi'. And it hurts, it hurts like hell when she says she's not there, and Rachel basically kicked her out. And Sam says nothing, other than that he's sorry, and to call him tomorrow after she sees him.

She has the same conversation with Toby, and it's just as painful, so she turns off her phone and tries to sleep, but she's up for hours, trying not to think about what happens if Josh doesn't give her another chance, and how hard its going to be with Rachel thinking Donna helped cause the heart attack. It's worse because Donna agrees with her.

The next day is horrible. She drops by GW first thing, and Rachel tells her he's sleeping but doing better. And she asks to see him, and Rachel tells her maybe later, and Donna asks to stay, but Rachel says it's not the best idea. Donna knows there's going to be no arguing with her, so she asks her to tell him she stopped by, and says they're both in her prayers, and she'll call later.

She goes back to the office, and most people give her sad sympathetic smiles. Will and Amy both ask her how what she's doing away from the hospital, and are surprised she's there. They seem to think she knows how he's doing so she tells them what Rachel told her. Amy says she'll drop by later, and asks her to let Josh know, and Donna can't even respond, but nods her head, and hopes Rachel treats all his ex-girlfriends the same. Will is completely stressed out himself, as with Josh gone, Goodwin thinks he can give him orders, and complains how he never liked that guy, and while Josh could be a pain in the ass, at least he was a friend of sorts. Will doesn't think Josh is coming back. Donna doesn't even want to think about that.

She calls a few more times, but Rachel says it's not a good time yet each time. Mrs. Santos is sympathetic but doesn't say much, which Donna appreciates, but then asks what she thinks of how he tried to resign to her husband? And Donna doesn't know what to say.

She drops by late in the day, and passes Amy on her way into the hospital. And Amy smiles sadly at her, no note of triumph in her eyes even though she must surely know Donna hasn't seen him yet. Amy tells her he'll be okay, and she'll be okay. It's a weird sort of camaraderie they have.

Rachel sees her and shakes her head, saying he's not ready yet, too much pressure, too much stress, but as Donna feels the tears again she tells her to come back first thing tomorrow, and she's sure Josh will be ready to see her then. And Donna knows she's telling the truth, so she goes back to CJ's.

CJ comes home late. Donna hasn't seen her since before the heart attack, and she doesn't understand why Donna's here and not there. Donna explains the situation, and CJ holds her while she cries some more, but eventually Donna has no more tears, none at all. A part of her wants to blame CJ for this, that if it weren't for her advice in the lockdown, she wouldn't have fucked Colin, wouldn't have left the White House, Josh wouldn't have left the White House, and they'd be counting down the days until her wedding date. Donna knows that's not fair, though. She had one night stands before Colin, and would probably have bedded him even without CJ's advice. She needed to leave, needed to advance, and doesn't regret it. It didn't need to result in Josh in a hospital bed, and her half a city away, but feeling like she may as well be in Australia. It's not CJ's fault.

Rachel lets her in the next morning, but says she'll be staying in the room. She says, trying to be kind to Donna, that she's done that for everyone except the President and the President-Elect, and she needs to make sure Josh doesn't overstress, and how Rachel knows the signs when it's happening. Donna knows them too, of course, and Rachel knows Donna knows, but it's obvious she doesn't trust him with her son's heart anymore, in any sense of the word.

Donna numbly nods and the two women go in.

Josh looks terrible. He looks better than on Monday, but it's worse that she's ever seen him before. And he looks completely defeated, like he's given up completely on everything. She touches his hand, to reassure herself, but he doesn't move to take it. She hugs him, and he hugs back, but it's tentative, and not due to weakness. She asks how he is, and he says he's doing horrible, and there's no trace of the humor or Josh-ness in his voice that she lives for. She tells him he had them all worried, and she's sorry, she's so sorry, and she wishes she could have been there these last two days, but his mother thought it best he have one constant caregiver. If he wants, she can stay, though, and clear her schedule, and she's there as long as he needs her.

His silence speaks volumes.

She doesn't know what to say. She asks him about their last conversation, and he doesn't want to talk about it, and Rachel is about to kick him out, but she asks if he meant it. And Josh knows what she's talking about, and says he did mean it. She asks, "Did?" and is about to say she loves him too, she loves him so much, and can't they please try again, but before she can get the words out, he changes the subject and tells her he's quitting. Quitting the White House, quitting politics.

She's in shock. Josh out of politics? He sees her expression, and says he can't handle the pressure anymore, and he shouldn't have taken on so much pressure before, but now, if he does it will kill him. He doesn't want to die. So he's going to Florida for a while to recuperate.

She asks him if he can't just take a leave of absence again until he gets better, and says she's sure he'll get better again, he did before, and just needs care and some stricter rules. And she gives him a shy smile, and tries to will him to work with her, to do this so that it can be like those three glorious, terrible months where she nursed him back to health and practically lived with him, but Rachel says he'll be getting that, he needs the devoted care, so _she_ will be giving it to him, but it needs to be in Florida for a while, not here in D.C. And Josh says even if he wanted to stay, the President-Elect needs a permanent Chief of Staff, and that can't be him, lying here in a hospital bed. He says it will probably go to Goodwin, and he'll take it, because he's not likely to get Secretary of the Interior like he wanted anyway. And it's not like in the old days, anyway. It's not like it was under President Bartlet, it's not a band of brothers and sisters this time, and no one will really miss him anyway. Donna sucks in her breath sharply, but he says it doesn't matter, it's not fun any more, and Goodwin will do an okay job for an unimaginative hack. He's got connections, at least.

Then he says he doesn't want to talk politics, and just needs to close his eyes for a few minutes. Rachel says he needs to rest, gets up to lead Donna out. Donna leans over and kisses his forehead, and says that she'll see him soon. Outside the room, she asks Rachel if she can come back later, and she says that maybe Donna shouldn't today. Donna nods her her head sadly, and leaves.

She'll come back tomorrow. She tell him she loves him then.

But when she comes by the next day, he's gone. He's gone to Florida. She leaves a message on his BlackBerry, and on Rachel's phone, but she doesn't know if he'll get the message. She knows he's given up, not just on Washington, but on any relationship with her ever. She knows because she remembers the past summer, after he didn't hire her. This feels exactly the same way.

But there are no more tears. Not until Monday, when Lou puts out a press release stating that for health reasons, Joshua Lyman would not be serving as Matthew Santos' Chief of Staff, and that he was an invaluable supporter and a good friend, and everyone wishes for a speedy recovery, and wishes him best of luck in his future endeavors

And the dam breaks again and she cries and cries and cries at her desk. When she looks at her calendar, and sees she has the date circled, a circle she made nearly a month ago, she cries some more.


	3. Chapter 3

She puts herself back together and gets through the week. Amy drops by again, and says she can't imagine Josh gone, outside of politics, and out of D.C. She thinks he'll be back as a Special Advisor to the President within three months.

Donna doesn't. She knows he's gone, and not coming back. She tries to imagine a White House with Josh in it or trying to get in it. She can't. Even in the campaign, when she thought Russell would crush Santos, she thought that Josh would sign onto the Vice President's campaign, and they'd take the White House and Josh would do something there, and she'd have a great job, and maybe they could be together. A White House without Josh... she's thankful she'll be working in the East Wing, where his absence from Leo's office won't be a daily wound to her.

Until the wound begins to heal. And she knows it can.

Donna has a choice, and she knows it. Life is full of choices, every decision is a choice, even ones you don't realize at the time, and some choices are major, massive. Leaving Paul to join an insurgent Presidential campaign was one. Coming back to the campaign, to Josh, was one. Lying about the damn diary was one. Sleeping with Colin was one in hindsight, although she just thought it was a harmless fling at the time. Leaving the White House was one. Trying to get onto the Santos campaign was one. Making the first move with Josh was one. Giving him that deadline was one. And walking out at Thanksgiving was one.

Each of these radically changed the course of her life. Every choice is significant, but this one, this one she knows will determine the course of the entire rest of her life.

Josh is gone. He has moved to Florida and it's clear to Donna he doesn't ever plan on coming back to D.C. To her. So she has a choice.

She can accept this, and close the book on Donna and Josh. Look back on it as nine years in close proximity with a wonderful, infuriating, inspiring man who set her on the course to being the player in the Democratic Party that she is today. Look fondly at the two kisses and seventeen days of sex as a wonderful fling with a man she once adored, treasure the memories, watch the hurt and the wounds scab over, and get on with her life.

She knows she can do this. It's very tempting – they've hurt one another so much, and maybe it's just time to let go, finally, and look to the future.

She can see this possible future very clearly. The occasional emails or phone calls that get less frequent as time goes on. They'll see each other at weddings and funerals, and chat awkwardly. Eventually at one of these she will introduce him to her husband, and he'll introduce her to his wife, and she'll rate a few mentions in his autobiography, and he'll rate a few chapters in hers. And one day she'll go to his funeral and say a final goodbye.

It's surprisingly tempting, to finally move on.

There's another choice. She can fight it. Not let Donna and Josh end like this. Fulfill those promises she made to God and herself after Rosslyn, after Gaza, after his heart attack, and tell him she loved him, she loves him, she will always love him. Take the risk with her heart that's she's never taken, the one so much greater and more terrifying than inviting him into her bed was. To finally and fully give him her heart, not wait for him to tell her how he feels, to give him her heart and risk him destroying it. It would be hard, he'd be wary, and his mother doesn't believe in her anymore, but if she took that step she never has, it could be everything she's ever dreamed.

It's a hard choice for her to make, and she doesn't want to leave it too long.

* * *

She flies down to Florida the next Thursday, and drives to Rachel's house. She doesn't call ahead – they've never returned her calls, and she wants to take the risk in person. If he's going to say he wants nothing to do with her, at least she's going to see him one last time.

She stands in front of the door and knocks.

Rachel is surprised to see her. She greets her warily, but invites her in. Josh is upstairs sleeping, she says. He's doing well without all the pressures of Washington. What is Donna doing here?

I didn't get to say goodbye, she says. She tells her she couldn't just leave it like that, she wanted to talk to Josh, and if it was goodbye, she wanted a proper one. She won't stress him, she won't, she promises, but she needs this. If nine years are going to end, she needs to see him one last time. And if the years are not ending, she needs to start them up again. Will Rachel please let her see him?

He's tired, Rachel says. I'm not going to wake him up. But she invites her to sit down, and pours her some tea, and invites her to talk.

It's simple stuff at first, awkward and stilted. Donna tells her about the First Lady and the new job, and what it was like for her on the Santos campaign. Rachel says she watched all of her press conferences, all her appearances, even when it was for Bob Russell, and Rachel was so proud of her, of how she's grown. And Donna can tell she means it, and goes and hugs the older women, and the hug back is warm, not like the hug of seventeen days ago, but like the hugs after Rosslyn and the times she's seen her since.

And Donna breaks down. She's sorry, she's oh so sorry, she never meant to hurt him, to hurt him so much. She didn't mean to give him a heart attack. She just wanted to know he wanted her in his life.

Rachel is crying now, too. He doesn't blame you, she says. He could never blame you. She shouldn't have blamed Donna, and she's so sorry she did. But didn't Donna know he loved her? Couldn't she see?

And Donna says she couldn't. Not until the end, and then she was so mad she thought she didn't care, but she was so wrong, she cared so much. She cares so much.

Rachel says the two of them are so deluded. He couldn't see how much she loved him. She couldn't see how much he loved her. He's so sad. He doesn't tell Rachel that, but she knows her boy is.

She tells Donna that she'll be staying with them, obviously, and Donna is so grateful. This is how it always was with Rachel before, how she feared it never would be again.

And then she hears him. He shouts down the stairs, asking who she's talking to, and his mother shouts up that he has a visitor, and to make himself decent. And after a minute, she sends Donna up.

He wasn't expecting her. The smile she gives him is shy, like the smile she gave him just before that horrible interview. He's shocked to see her, but invites her to sit down. She takes the chair by the bed, but doesn't touch him. She's afraid again.

He asks how she is, and how work is going. She tells him about how it is, how the staff hates Goodwin, how they think Josh may have been overly intense, but they respected him. She tells him about Annabeth, and how CJ misses him, and how she just can't figure out Amy, who has been very nice to her ever since she was hired for the Santos White House, although she can't figure out whether she's being sincere or snarky. And that gets a laugh from Josh, the first laugh she's heard from him since the election, really, as he says it's probably both.

He tells her he's doing better, and he has a good doctor here in Palm Beach, and he's gets to take a walk once a day along the beach for ten minutes. She asks if he's gone yet today, and he shakes his head. She then asks, more shyly that she ever thought she would be again, if he'd like her to go with him. And he smiles, and it's the first smile she's seen from him since he came back from California, and says he'd like that. Rachel makes sure he's dressed warmly, and they journey out into the afternoon.

It's slow going for him, but she's right there with him. They don't say much, as it's a struggle for him, but she holds his arm and stays with him. He says he's getting better, and his mom is great, but it's not how it was last time, not without... and he leaves the rest unsaid. She wipes away a tear.

When they get back, they sit in the living room together, and Rachel says she has to go to the supermarket for tonight, because they weren't planning on having company, and she wants to make something special.

Josh says he's done with politics, and doesn't know what he's going to do. His mother suggested he be a teacher, although he doesn't think he'd be a good one. She nearly starts crying, but stops herself, and says he is a good teacher, the best she ever had, and she's so sorry she said that and made him doubt himself and how wonderful he was. And he doesn't know what to say, so he reaches out a hand to her, and soon their fingers are interlaced.

Even in the seventeen days together, they've never done that.

I love you, she says. She tells him she's loved him forever, and she's sorry she never told him. She's sorry she left him doubting, but she never stopped loving him, and never will stop loving him. Even when she left. Even when they broke up. Even if he doesn't love her any more.

Through her tears, she thinks she sees him smile. He says he never stopped loving her either, and didn't think they broke up until he heard through the grapevine that she thought that. He never wanted to break up, and he knew he wanted to be with her forever, but when she set that deadline, and said it might not be worth the trouble, he panicked. He didn't want to face losing her yet again, and hoped she'd just forget the deadline and forget threatening to leave him again. But by doing it, he did the same thing as he did last year.

Maybe, she says, maybe we can go back. Forget the breakup. If he still feels that way.

And he shakes his head no, and she starts to cry until he grabs bother her hands and begs her not to cry. He doesn't want to go back to what they had, fun as it was, as he wants them to be right this time. And he tells her he loves her and will love her forever, and can't they start again from the beginning, now that they know how they feel?

And the tears don't stop, and she holds him tight and says she'll never let him go again.

* * *

They light the sixth candle of the menorah that night, and she stays right through until the day after Christmas, but then she has to go back. Before she leaves, she covers his face with gentle kisses in between telling him Boxing Day trivia, and he's smirking at her like he hasn't in years and tells her how much he's missed this, how much he's going to miss it. But she has to go back, and he needs to stay in Florida, just for a little while, and get better. It's nice to be with his mom again after so long away, and Donna knows this, sad as she is she won't see him every day.

But he'll be up for the 20th, and they'll go to the Inauguration together, and she'll take him to one of the balls, even though there will be no dancing or drinking for him.

And he comes up and sees everyone, and it's very nice, and the new President tells him how much they miss him, and when he gets better to see him about a job, although Donna knows he won't. CJ greets him more warmly than she has in over a year, and she looks free now, and is smiling with Danny, and Donna thinks maybe without politics involved CJ and Josh can get their friendship back. And they chat pleasantly at the ball with Amy and her wood sculptor, who looks upon her adoringly, and who Donna finds she quite likes. After they say goodbye, Josh starts singing the Lumberjack Song from Monty Python quietly, and Donna bursts into laughter, and the smirk on his face as she does so makes her so happy she could burst. Which, as she controls her laughter, she realizes she has.

They go to the White House the next day, and she proudly shows him her gigantic office, and he says he's so proud of her, that she did this. And she kisses him right there in the office and tells him she would never have been there if it weren't for him.

He goes back on the Monday, and she promises she'll visit him every couple of weeks if she can, and she finds out she usually can. They talk, and it can be difficult but they don't let it break them apart, and they don't let the tears get in between them. On one of the visits down, he puts a ring on her finger and she's so glad the doctors cleared him for vigorous activity, because it's like never before, not even during their first seventeen days.

He moves back into his apartment just before the spring term starts at Georgetown. She's been living there for months, and it's so good to have him back. They've stayed in his apartment before, in those terrible glorious three months seven years before, and she visited him during that November when they were sleeping together, but this is their home now, and it's so much more special now.

And as she masters the role of Chief of Staff to the First Lady, and commiserates with Annabeth and Amy and Lou and Will about how much of a tool Barry Goodwin is, how he's no Leo, no CJ, not even a Bingo Bob, as the Santos Administration sputters worse than the Bartlet Administration did in the beginning, Josh isn't tempted to go back. He's done with that, although he has a wealth of stories and anecdotes for his students. His lecture halls are always full, far more than the officially registered number of students, and he sends humorous emails responding to Toby's acerbic ones, complaining about students and how they can't write.

It's not all smiles and sunshine with Donna and Josh, they're both stubborn people, and their banter and snark turns to fighting occasionally, and there are hurt feelings, and harsh words, but there's love and caring and sweetness and laughter, and tender caresses and verbal foreplay and wild passionate nights. And eventually there's a chuppah and cradles and cribs. And there's friends who visit, and who they visit, but at the end of every night there's their best friend there in bed with them, as another endless day together gets ticked off the calendar.

And there's no pressure at all.

The End.


End file.
